


Wildfire

by Alderdash



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 17:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alderdash/pseuds/Alderdash
Summary: Hawkeye patches up Mustang after a battle





	Wildfire

**Author's Note:**

> This is an extract from an ongoing long-form piece that is still a work in progress.

Hawkeye pushed the door open carefully to find Mustang sitting on the edge of the bed in his shirtsleeves, shoulders slumped and head in hands. 

“I didn’t realise till I sat down,” he said, muffled, “how many things hurt… My eyes are like sandpaper. I can hardly breathe…”

The last word triggered a fit of coughing, and Hawkeye put the tray down on the bed quickly and went to pour water from the jug.

“Here,” she said, touching his shoulder and handing him the glass. “It’s the smoke and the hot air, I think. I feel it myself, but you were right up in it all day. You’ll need to give it time.”

He nodded his thanks and sipped the water till the coughing subsided, but his hand still shook, and he was grey with fatigue.

She patted his shoulder gently and turned to the tray.

“Right… Here, take this,” and she handed him the mug of soup. He looked at it doubtfully.

“I don’t think I can face it…”

“Take it! You haven’t eaten all day,” she said sternly. “It’s not too hot, and there’s not much of it.”

“I just…”

“You just… do as you’re told for once!”

He looked sleepily up at her, and his mouth twitched at the corner.

“Yes ma’am,” he said obediently, and drank a little.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and headed for the washroom door.

She took a few minutes to wash her face in cool water, blinking at her smoke-smudged reflection in the mirror. Her ears were still ringing with the constant noise of the day, and the silence of the room only emphasised it. She felt a little light-headed, and bone-tired. She folded her jacket neatly over her arm and headed back out.

Mustang was still where she’d left him, listing sideways a little with the mug just starting to slip from his hand. Hawkeye grabbed it neatly before it fell and set it on the bedside table. 

“Right, let’s have a look at you,” she said briskly, pulling a chair over from the corner and sitting in front of him. He blinked at her drowsily as she took a soft cloth from the tray and dipped it in the bowl of salt water.

“I’m sorry, this might sting a little,” she said, pushing his hair off his face and tilting his head back so that she could bathe his bloodshot eyes. “How does that feel?”

“Better, I think. I actually see you now. But...ow… do I have a scratch on my face there or something?” he reached up to his cheek.

“That’s up next,” she said. “There’s quite a few cuts, and burns. There was a lot of debris in the air, you were too engrossed to notice being hit. I have a salve here, but I need to clean them first.”

She turned his head towards her to take a closer look, and then drew her breath in sharply.

“What?” he asked.

“You were very lucky,” she said, rinsing out the cloth and folding it to a fresh spot. “There’s a nasty gash right under your eye, it’s starting to bruise too. An inch higher…” 

She finished cleaning the wound and started to spread the salve a little unsteadily. He flinched from her touch and grabbed her hand.

“You’re shaking,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” she rubbed her eyes tiredly, “Reaction, I suppose. It’s been a long day.”

“But we made it,” he said, seriously. “Everyone’s all right. I’m all right.”

“This time,” she said, freeing her hand and going back to work. “But at this rate our luck will have to run out eventually. I don’t know…”

She shook her head.

“Well, never mind that for now. Now I really do need to apologise, because this is actually going to hurt.”

She carefully started to push back the scorched cuffs of his shirt, but he was looking at her in concern and didn’t notice. 

“It’s not like you,” he began, “to sound so… Aaah! What the hell Hawkeye?!”

He looked down, shocked, at the broad burns on his wrist, covered in dirt and soot that she was cleaning as gently as she could.

“How did that…?” he turned and shook back the sleeve from his other wrist to see matching injuries under the blackened edges. “How did I not…?”

“I’m not sure exactly how it happened,” she said, taking the cooling salve and spreading it gingerly across the angry burns, then wrapping them in cotton bandages from the tray. “I think perhaps the alchemical reaction itself protected your hands, but you were reaching out towards the fire… You were probably burned multiple times through the day… I suppose you’re not used to being so close to the flames. Usually you’re the one in control, not the fire.”

He gave her his other hand without complaint, still looking more startled than anything else.

“I do remember my sleeve caught fire at one point,” he said slowly. “But I thought I put it out quickly enough…”

She worked neatly and quickly on the second bandage, while his head started to droop tiredly again.

“I’ll get May to look at them properly in the morning,” she said. “But that should help for now. The salve should numb any pain.”

She stood up and gathered things back together onto the tray to take downstairs.

“Now sleep,” she said firmly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a weak salute, his eyes closed before his head even hit the pillow.

The rattle of her opening the door caught his attention again.

“You’re not leaving…?”

She smiled in his direction, even though he couldn’t see it.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Good…” his voice tailed off and she closed the door behind her quietly.


End file.
